Come What May
by MoonliteMuse
Summary: He was a lost boy, looking for love. She was a dreaming girl, able to give it to him. . .for the right price. Passion rages as fire and water collide. Zutara AU. Based off of Moulin Rouge.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This is an idea I'm testing out. . .let me know what you think! :)

It was a pitch-black room, bottles of empty liquor strewn across the dusty wooden floor. The pungent scent of alcohol intensified by the summer air was suffocating, as if it carried its own thick, black cloud. Spiders, weaving their eerie silver traps, danced aimlessly in the corners of the room. The rain poured outside the window, beating relentlessly against the glass. Lightning split the dark sky and left flashes of crooked witch fingers. When the wind blew, the old building groaned in pain, as if it were to cave in at any given moment. Dirty laundry was strewn everywhere; however, Zuko didn't care how much a mess it was. Nothing mattered anymore. His life had no meaning. There was just one thing left to do. . .

He sat in his old wooden chair, the stingy smell of tears mixed in the air. With a deep breath, he ran a shaking hand over his face, sighing heavily. Each piece of his shattered heart felt like a huge weight that had floated to the bottom of the sea. His fingers gently pressed against the typewriter keys. It seemed so foreign to him now, he almost had forgotten how the coolness, the tingling sensation that used to come to his fingertips, but no more. They had long since gone numb. As he listened to his broken heart, the words crept up his throat and through his lips, the pain flowing effortlessly as the agony flowed over his cheeks in rivers of tears.

_I've learned a lot of lessons in my life_, he started out, taking a deep sniff to stop the snot from running out of his nose. _I've learned respect. I've learned how to live as a free man. I've learned jealousy. _He paused, the pounding in his head constricting and holding him under its control, until the pain decently subsided. He grit his teeth and continued, his chest hiccuping as it became more and more difficult for his fingers to keep moving.

_But the greatest thing you'll ever learn_, he breathed, determination now settling in his heart, _is just to love, and be loved, in return._

The tears resurfaced in full force, streaming down his cheeks silently. Zuko began to shake, with anger, hate, and sadness. Hate at his own life. It seemed that life, at every opportune moment, took everything away that had made him happy. Things that he had sacrificed and worked so hard for, pulled away like the rug underneath his feet. It stripped him of his inheritance and recognition as a Fire Nation prince, something he used to hold as number one importance. It took away his mother, his uncle. And now. . .

Fate was the biggest bitch he had ever met. And he had Azula for a sister.

He shook his head. _I wanted to go out and make a difference. So I went out in search of my own destiny, and my own father disowned me shortly after. He didn't want anything to do with me, and was glad I left. Looking back now, so was I. _

_But what I found, was greater than any man could have dreamed._


	2. Chapter 2

"I'm taking a trip to the colonies," Zuko bellowed at his father with utter conviction in his voice, "Because I'm tired of just _sitting _here, and doing _nothing_!" It's true. All his life, he had been taught to firebend,which, quite frankly, he would never amount to her sister, her and all her _glory. _He had been taught to sit straight, and look well, and which fork to use, all the obnoxious etiquette that comes with royalty. How many hours had he had to spend in the study with some professor about the "great history of the Fire Nation!", information that he'd probably never have to recall in his later years. The boredom created from thus had sent more than a few textbooks to their firey demise. Zuko needed to get out, and experience first hand exactly what he would be ruling over when his time came. He could not just stand here and waste his days in the palace when he could be getting to know people, and understanding how various villages and cities worked. _That_ was true productivity. That and only that could help him in becoming the greatest Fire Lord this nation had seen.

Ozai stuck his chin up, breathing deeply through his nostrils. "And just WHAT do you plan on doing?" The flames crawled higher along his throne, licking and crackling in the air around them.

"Exploring," he muttered, as he raised his head and met eyes with the Fire Lord. "If I'm going to become the Fire Lord one day, I need to know _all _of our great nation."

Ozai narrowed his eyes, and Zuko tensed. There was no love and no compassion within them, not even an ounce. They were cold, calculating eyes, as if judging what to do with the little mouse found bustling and making a ruckus in the palace kitchen. "I will give you this one chance. . ." He sat forward in his throne, his gaze piercing into his soul, embedding his words like daggers. It was all Zuko could do not to take a step back; he had learned that lesson once already, when he had been scarred for dishonor, that look on his face. "But listen to me, and listen to me closely. You are the greatest disgrace of a child, let alone a pathetic excuse for being my _firstborn son_," he emphasized these words with great humiliation, "that I've ever seen. I can barely stand to look at you even now, when you're supposed to be a 'man'. But you're nothing more than the same stupid boy you've always been." He spat, which made the flames hiss in annoyance. "When you come back, I want to see some change in you. Do _not_ return until you've become a real man. Otherwise. . .I have no son. I don't want to see your face again. Now LEAVE."

"Yes, sir." His voice, coarse like sandpaper barely uttered, the words almost meaningless to him. How many years had he heard his father insult him? How many years had he had to deal with his sister whispering lies into his years and make him feel so defeated?

_Don't come back until you're a man._

That's the only part that really mattered to him.

As he passed trough the halls, he noticed already that he was getting odd stares. Their gazes lingered longer, as if sizing up what little worth he had, taking their time in absorbing him from head, to toe. Did his father already plan on this? It was as if he were a bug on the bottom of their shoes, or even _less._ He could never amount to anything in their eyes, just like his father, no matter how many rights he had done, it would never, ever be enough. Fists gripped tight at his sides, the knuckles turning snowy white with fury. All this time he had known nothing of victory, or success. That was all for his sister. All he had known, was failure, and living in the darkness of disgust. But now he finally had the chance to make something of himself. To finally prove that he wasn't just Prince Zuko; he was much, much more.

Finally approaching his room, he slammed the door open. He reached underneath his bed to get a sack, and tossed it onto the bed. Alright. A few sets of clothes. Water. Food. Soap. Toothbrush and paste. Deodorant. That should be it. . .slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he turned to leave the room, but a pale woman caught his eye. He turned his head over his shoulder, to find a picture of Lady Ursa embracing her son, giving him a gentle noogie. Zuko wasn't pushing her away, but he just looked up at her, holding on, smiling and laughing. So many years ago. . .he reached out and gently grabbed the photo, bringing it closer. Instantly, his heart felt weighed down with lead. The only person who believed him, besides his Uncle. . .gone. The only one who had any showed him semblance of love and compassion.

"Why'd you leave me, mother?" He whispered to the picture, his eyebrows furrowed with hurt and confusion. He needed her guidance now more than ever. But he would just have to make due by his own, as he had since she left him. Removing a couple shirts, he wrapped up the picture and put it safely in his sack, and slung it over his shoulder. He left the palace; his home, his childhood, all his fond memories were now kept and sealed within his home. Moving along, he didn't once glance over his shoulder. He kissed his previous life goodbye, for what may be forever.

_Remember, Zuko. NEVER forget who you are. _

"I won't," he swore under his breath.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry I haven't updated, guys. Had a lot of projects for school to do. . .well, enjoy! AND REVIEW!**

_Our Fire Nation Prince- or, rather, ex-Prince- decided to take a trip to one of the most well-known colonies. It was a happy and fruitful place, thriving with culture and people and teeming with dreams and adventure. . .or, so it seemed. Appealed by this, Zuko took a ship and sailed as fast as he could, and arrived a mere days later, ready to embark in an alien world that just might chew him up and spit him right back out. . ._**  
**

Zuko pulled his hood up over his head, his gold eyes darting warily around him. Who knows what could happen if someone recognized him? He kept his hands in his sleeves, though he would not tilt his head down, not for anyone. He was Prince Zuko, and he would get respect, whether people knew him or not. Taking a deep breath, he could smell the new aromas twirling their way to his nostrils, pulling him in to the "normal" life. There were greasy foods and roasting meat, and there was popcorn and all the like, walking along this one street. It made his stomach grumble in anticipation to try all that this place had to offer, no matter how meek it may seem in comparison to the professional delicacies he had back at the palace. The gentle wind carried these smells around him, pulling him in and tempting his impatient stomach all the more. Lanterns hung at stores, decorating the otherwise bland buildings. There was one particular place that caught his eye, however.

It was a grand building, it was. It was dome shaped, like a turtleduck's shell, and red like that of a messenger hawk's feathers. Lights flashed inside, brilliantly colored and so intense you could see the artistic dance from the outside. As Zuko drew closer, he could feel the thud of the music pulse under his feet. Excited, he followed the music and the lights, intrigued by a world that he had never heard of, never seen. He darted in, quietly lurking in the shadows. The lights had gone out, and the music seeped into the air, growing and growing until it filled him completely. One by one a spotlight appeared on the stage, revealing each a lovely lady. . .wearing a frilly short skirt, and bra with tassels, as well as a flamboyant hat, sometimes with feathers. They moved their slim, curvy bodies to the beat, running their hands slowly over their smooth, toned skin. The dancers would swish their hips side to side as they bent their knees to the ground, and when they came up, their fingers would play in their hair, gently pushing it up. Zuko lost his breath at the site. He had heard of exotic dancers, because his father would occasionally bring them in from time to time. But to actually see them in action truly opened his eyes as to why men would lust after them so. Some had winding tattoos on their thighs, or a dragon along their side, or tribal markings on their face. The dancers froze in place, and little shards of diamonds seemed to fall from the ceiling, falling to the ground in quiet chiming bells. A woman walked from the back, and just as he was about to leave, a woman's voice caught his attention. He whipped around, mesmerized by the smooth quality that left his heart without beats.

"Kiss me, gently," she sang softly, her eyes half lidded and a dainty fingernail, gloved in white silk, tugging at her lower lip which shimmered faintly from the blue glow of the lights. She wore a white corset with black lacing, a pink delicate flower in her rich brown hair. On her bottom were tight, black leather mini shorts that hugged the perfect curve of her butt. Exposed were her thighs, lean with muscle, smooth as a woman's skin only could be. "Always, I know. Hold me, love me." She wrapped her arms around her middle, her head rolling to the side, and her eyes closed. The enchantress swished her hips to the sides. . .once, twice, and continued in this slow rhythm as the music grew. Her pink lips parted in a sweet, serene smile, as if already wrapped in the warmth of a man's arms. "Don't ever go." Her hands – sweet Agni- started at her collarbone, then her fingers spread, wrapping around her full bosom, and slid down her body. Zuko could not help but watch in awe as they moved over her breasts, her flat stomach, to the swell of her hips and holding on as she kept moving, bending closer to the ground by her knees. On the last "o", the music grew louder and louder, and she slowly came up, her head tilting back. Her skin was the epitome of caramel, so tempting that Zuko wanted to run his tongue over it to see if it had the same sweetness. As this thought crossed his mind her eyes flung open and her body burst, her legs and arms spreading in a sudden explosion. "Yeah!" Her attitude suddenly changed, as if lit with passion's fire. The grin on her pink lips was seductive, but reached her deep blue eyes, that sparkled with every dark promise whispered on men's lips. But her eyes met his, and all the breath left his lungs. She was exquisite, what everyone could dream of beauty. No doubt this girl was heaven sent, an angel to bless the earth. But when she saw him, her movements had stopped, her smile fell. She didn't seem mad, or disgusted, or disappointed, but. . .surprised.

"Come on, Katara!" A man coaxed behind stage. "The chorus follows. It's easy. You can do it!" He sounded rather cheery, considering the place they were in.

She stared in utter silence, as if under sudden paralysis. "Katara?"

"I. . .I need some water. These lights must be getting to me." She held a hand to her forehead and disappeared off stage. At that moment, the spell was broken. Zuko blinked, and released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. Before he could get caught, he pulled his hood tighter over him and exited the building in haste.

That woman, he _had_ to see her again.

"Katara."


End file.
